


Silver and Gold

by o2doko



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-21
Updated: 2011-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o2doko/pseuds/o2doko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakura and Syaoran go on their first official date after Syaoran's return from Hong Kong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver and Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arachne13 @ LiveJournal](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=arachne13+%40+LiveJournal).



> This story is gift fic for arachne13 in return for her very generous donation in the help_japan auctions over at LiveJournal. The prompt was entirely her idea. Thanks again, Sally, and I hope you enjoy it!

As far as hiding places went, it wasn’t very good: too dark to see, too muffled to hear, and – unless he was drastically mistaken – he’d just found the pair of dirty gym socks his mistress had misplaced last year.

Should’ve pretended to be a stuffed animal, he thought ruefully to himself, shoving aside a tangle of untied shoelaces and vacating the boot he’d been hiding in. The closet door had been left open a fraction for ventilation, but the bright sound of chatter outside was still mostly deflected by the papered door. Creeping stealthily over the curved toe of a roller skate, Kero edged closer to Sakura’s backpack, hoping for a better vantage point. The collection of keychains dangling from the front zipper jingled ominously as he tucked himself inside, and he held his breath; but there was no corresponding pause in the rhythm of conversation to betray him. Smiling in smug satisfaction, he made sure his round ears were out of sight before peeking carefully through the opening.

“— so lucky, Sakura-chan,” Chiharu was saying from the other side of the room. She was spread out on her stomach across Sakura’s futon, the bear Syaoran had given her friend cuddled in her arms. “Yamazaki-kun took me to a pachinko parlor for our first date.” Her cute nose wrinkled in obvious distaste. “He made me sit there and watch him play games all afternoon while he made up lies about the history of gambling. It was awful.”

“But he did win you that cute stuffed rabbit,” Naoko reminded her. She was seated cross-legged on the futon beside Chiharu, idly shaping her nails with a file.

“It was awful,” Chiharu reiterated, though now she was blushing slightly behind her scowl. “A music festival in the park is a much better first date.”

Sakura only giggled nervously in response, and Kero shifted against the edge of his mistress’ pencil case to better see her. She was seated at her little vanity table, twisting her hands restlessly in her lap while Tomoyo expertly wove a series of bright yellow ribbons through her hair. The sun streamed through the pretty lace curtains ornamenting the room’s only window, dappling the skin of Sakura’s bare arm in an intricate lattice of shadows. In the softening glow of the afternoon, her silky hair had taken on an auburn cast laced with tones of honey, and her bright eyes gleamed like polished emeralds. It was perhaps the first time the sun guardian had appreciated how beautiful she was – and how distressingly fast she was growing up.

This gathering felt like some sort of ceremony, or at least a ritual, and it confused Kero. Tomoyo had, of course, made the lovely yellow and white dress Sakura now wore, so it made sense that she was there. But why the others? And why was Sakura so nervous? Kero scowled. It was all very strange.

“You’ll have fun,” Rika assured Sakura brightly. “I went last year with – mm, a friend.” She smiled shyly, her fingers playing with the slender chain around her neck. The charm, as always, was carefully hidden beneath her shirt. “Hibiya park is really beautiful this time of year.”

“I can’t believe your dad’s letting you go into the city at night,” Naoko announced, slipping her nail file into her purse. Her voice had taken on the slightly mysterious tone it always had right before she told a story, and the other girls turned automatically to face her. “My cousin had a friend named Miyu whose first date was in Tokyo, too. She and her boyfriend went to Ueno park to see the cherry blossoms during Golden Week. They took the train in from the suburbs – just like Sakura-chan and Li-kun will – and on the way there, everything was fine. But on the way back, Miyu-san noticed that a strange, hunchbacked man on the train was watching her. They had to transfer trains twice, and each time they did, this man followed them. By the time they reached their stop it was dark outside, and when they disembarked from the train, the strange man followed. Miyu-san was nervous, and she held on tight to her boyfriend’s arm as they walked through the deserted back streets on their way to her house. He told her she was being paranoid, but every few minutes she’d glance back over her shoulder and the man would still be there; just a few feet behind them, still watching her …”

Sakura’s anxious fingers had taken up a fistful of butter-cream fabric from her skirt and begun to crease the material into nervous folds. She stared down at the tatami even as Rika and Chiharu leaned closer to Naoko. Only Tomoyo seemed utterly unconcerned. She neatly tied off the edge of one of Sakura’s ribbons, lightly squeezing her friend’s shoulder as she reached for the brush on the table. Sakura glanced up automatically in response, the girls’ eyes meeting in the plane of the mirror, and Tomoyo smiled reassuringly. Her quiet humming, once it began, was so soft Kero could barely hear it from his nearby position at the closet door, but Sakura seemed to find it soothing. At any rate, she smoothed out the creases she’d made in her skirt and folded her hands over the fabric, demure and still.

Kero never did catch the end of Naoko’s story. He was too busy reclining back against Sakura’s bag, nibbling restlessly on a stick of pocky and worrying over how useless Yue would be on babysitting duty.

There were some things, it seemed, even Clow couldn’t have prepared them for.

~ * ~

It was still early spring, and not particularly warm; but Syaoran could feel a bead of sweat working its way between his shoulder blades and down his back, sticky and uncomfortable beneath his shirt, as he stared straight ahead into Touya’s narrowed eyes.

Not that the older boy was any more comfortable. Standing with his bare feet on the edge of the entrance-way step, he had to hunch forward awkwardly to hold the door open without stepping down onto the ground. But the impromptu staring contest had become a battle of wills, and neither boy seemed overly anxious to be the first to cave.

Fortunately, they weren’t entirely alone.

“Touya-kun, is that Li-kun at the door?” Fujitaka called from somewhere inside, only a moment before Yukito appeared behind Touya and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Good afternoon, Li-kun,” the blonde greeted brightly, giving Touya a firm tug backward. “Forgive my rudeness, but I need Touya to help me with something in the kitchen …” Rolling his eyes, Sakura’s brother reluctantly vacated his post and Syaoran gratefully slipped inside.

“Hello, Li-kun,” Fujikata greeted, smoothly taking over while Yukito herded his resisting friend off in the direction of the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable; Sakura-chan should be downstairs in just a moment.” He disappeared then to announce their guest to his daughter, leaving Syaoran to nervously slip free of his shoes and perch at the edge of their sofa.

He’d been here before, of course – and was generally greeted in exactly the same manner, so long as Touya was home – but something about this particular visit felt different. Wiping his clammy palms against his pants, he swept the room with an anxious glance and ended up making eye-contact with Sakura’s mother, resplendent in her pretty, ornate picture frame. Always a different photograph, every time he visited, and always an impossibly beautiful one. This time, Nadeshiko was wearing a dress which must have been chosen exclusively to bring out the vivid shade of her enchanting green eyes.

Just like Sakura’s, he thought to himself, and it made him blush.

~ * ~

Sakura’s giggling entourage accompanied her down the narrow flight of stairs, rather like honorary maids attending their chosen princess, and it made her nervous enough to fumble over Syaoran’s given name when she greeted him at the bottom. For his part, painfully aware of the three sets of eyes watching them from the entrance to the kitchen – brother, father, and guardian – Syaoran took the highroad at the last minute and called her ‘Kinomoto-san,’ the way he used to when they first met; it set her friends into another fit of laughter behind them.

“We should go, or we might miss our train,” he tried hopefully, resisting the urge to grab her hand and run.

“We should,” she agreed gratefully, though she seemed strangely reluctant to untuck her arm from Tomoyo’s.

“Not too late,” Fujitaka reminded them, and Naoko made some kind of slashing gesture with her hand, which in turn caused Sakura to nod in vigorous agreement. Confused, Syaoran made a mental note to ask her about it later.

Touya looked like he wanted to add a comment of his own, but Yukito preemptively stuffed a freshly-made cookie into his mouth, buying the couple the time they needed to make their escape. The girls accompanied them outside to see them off, waving and giggling until they were out of sight; and then they, too, dispersed like a brightly colored cloud beneath the sunshine. Only Tomoyo returned to the house to fetch her things.

On her second and final pass through the downstairs hall, she heard Touya growl to Yukito that Sakura had never disclosed the location of her date to him. “Hibiya Park,” she announced cheerfully, her smile sly and mischievous as she stopped to deposit a neatly wrapped piece of chocolate into her handbag. Kero – crammed inside against the dominating bulk of her newest camera – took it with a grudging scowl just before she snapped the closure shut once more. “They’re going to the music festival.”

Touya’s sullen expression took on an entirely different cast. “Hey, Yuki,” he said abruptly, turning towards his companion. “You like music, don’t you? And we haven’t gone out anywhere in a long time. I have off from work tonight …”

Yukito just sighed before biting into another cookie. But it wasn’t a ‘no.’

Giggling quietly, Tomoyo showed herself out.

~ * ~

It was much easier to breathe once they were finally alone. Sitting across from one another on the train for the first leg of their journey, Sakura traded colorful descriptions of her latest cheer club routine for Syaoran’s amusing stories about his old (and slightly senile) great aunt, whom he had spent time with during the past year in Hong Kong. By the time they transferred to the metro at Tokyo Station, Syaoran felt brave enough to use the crowded car as a cover for taking hold of Sakura’s hand, pulling her in close against his side lest they be separated in the rush-hour press. He had grown during their time apart; she had to tilt her head back slightly now to make eye-contact with him while they were standing, and even the sickly yellow light of the car somehow looked fetching against her ribbons and the flawless curve of her cheek. The train emptied considerably at Shibuya, but neither of them seemed inclined to snatch up one of the suddenly available seats.

The late afternoon sun had brushed everything gold by the time they emerged above-ground once more, tinting the blossoms and the pavement and lacing the water in the central fountain with traces of amber. In addition to the two main, permanent stages in the park, numerous platforms had been erected near the paths for the performers; strings of pink and white paper lanterns floated overhead from the lines crossed between them. “Are you hungry?” Syaoran asked, gesturing towards the small army of vendor stalls taking up position a little ways off.

“Not yet,” Sakura decided with a shy smile, tightening her fingers through his and gently tugging him towards the less-crowded pathway near the lake.

~ * ~

“It was a good idea to dress Sakura-chan in yellow,” Chiharu announced, her tone approving as she watched the couple trailing off towards the arbors. “She’s easy to spot in the crowd.”

“That’s Tomoyo-chan,” Naoko grinned, “always thinking. But where is she? If we wait here any longer, we’re going to lose them. She’s missing it!”

“Maybe she felt that it would be rude to spy on them, and decided not to come after all?” Yamazaki tried, casting a bored glance skyward and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Or that she didn’t want to miss Kokia-sama’s performance. Like we’re going to.”

“Quiet, you!” Chiharu ordered imperiously. “This is Sakura-chan’s first date! It’s important. There should be witnesses!” Naoko nodded in solemn agreement.

“But no one spied on us during our first date,” Yamazaki protested.

Chiharu grinned. “That’s what you think. Right, Rika-chan?”

Rika made a sound of agreement in the back of her throat, but she was obviously distracted; peering at her watch for what must have been the thousandth time in the last two minutes, she glanced around at the crowd, eyes wandering in the opposite direction from the one Sakura and Syaoran had taken. At last, she caught sight of something that made her entire face light up. “Ah! Um, I have to go, everyone. I’m sorry, but I promised to meet someone here. Have fun tonight! I’ll catch up with you later.” Before anyone could protest she’d skipped away, vanishing expertly into the milling throng of people.

“Maybe we should follow her instead,” Chiharu mused, propping her hands against her hips. “All these years, and she still won’t tell us who she’s seeing.”

“Music has had a long and prestigious history throughout the world,” Yamazaki announced suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, and the girls turned to look at him in confusion. “It was invented in prehistoric times by cavemen, who used it to communicate with one another over long distances. At first, they would simply beat rocks against one another; but after a time, they realized that the sounds of rocks hitting rocks didn’t travel very far. That’s when they invented the drum. But it wasn’t until man had ceased to be nomadic that he realized music was an excellent way of communicating with people who were nearby, as well as far away. That’s about the time that man invented dancing.”

“… Is that true?” Naoko asked skeptically, giving Yamazaki an appraising look. “Because I thought --“

“Oh, who cares!” Chiharu snapped in exasperation. “All that talking made us lose Sakura-chan!” Both girls turned towards the walkway near the lake, but Sakura’s yellow ruffles were nowhere to be seen. “It’ll take us forever to find them again in this crowd!”

“Sorry,” Yamazaki offered with a contented, entirely ingenuine smile. You owe me one, Li-kun.  
“Oh, well. Guess we’ll just have to content ourselves with going to hear Kokia-sama sing.” So saying, he gently began to herd the girls off in the other direction.

“Fine,” Chiharu muttered irritably, though she linked her arm through Yamazaki’s as they walked. “But you’re going to buy us all kakigori to make up for it.”

~ * ~

“I wonder what they’re talking about?” Kero asked out of the side of his mouth, careful to move his lips as little as possible. Tomoyo had agreed to carry him in the crook of her arm so that he could better observe what was going on, but the crowds made it difficult for him to communicate with her without blowing his cover.

“Why so anxious, Kero-chan?” she asked, her tone teasing as she refocused her camera lens. “I thought you decided Li-kun was a nice boy, after all.”

Kero took a moment to consider that, watching the couple in question. Syaoran had bought them ice cream at some point during their walk, and now they sat side-by-side on a bench beneath a flowering cherry blossom tree. It was excellent cover for Tomoyo, who could easily pretend to take pictures of the blossoms while actually photographing them; but Kero didn’t like how close the two were sitting. “It’s a big bench, after all,” he muttered.

“What was that?” But Tomoyo had heard him perfectly well, and she paused a moment to pat his head affectionately. “Everyone loves Sakura-chan,” she mused with a smile. “No one wants to lose her to anyone else.”

“Even you?” Kero asked.

Tomoyo’s smile became a touch enigmatic, though she didn’t answer his question directly. “I don’t think you have to worry, Kero-chan. Sakura-chan has a big heart; room enough for all of us.” Syaoran leaned forward to carefully wipe a bit of ice cream from the corner of Sakura’s mouth with the tip of his finger, and with a quick, delighted inhale Tomoyo lifted her camera again to capture the moment. She paused another minute after, admiring the pretty way Sakura flushed in the red-gold light of the setting sun. Then she fished her lens cap out of her dress pocket and fitted it into place.

“I think I got everything I wanted,” she announced suddenly, switching off the camera. “And anyway, our light’s giving out. Time to go, Kero-chan.”

“But – wait! I don’t want to be a babysitter!” Kero wailed, wings fluttering in careless protest as Tomoyo nudged him back into her handbag along with the camera.

“I’ll buy you something sweet before we leave,” she soothed, concealing her laughter behind one hand and turning to go.

~ * ~

“Yuki – they’re moving again! Would you just hurry up and pick a CD? We’re going to lose them.”

Tall as he was, Touya had to stand on the tips of his toes to avoid losing sight of his sister over the heads of the people between them, and Yukito paused a moment to savor the sight of the other boy struggling to maintain his balance. A little distance away, one of the bands on one of the makeshift stages launched into a new number, and the blonde gave his friend’s sleeve a determined tug.

“I love this song,” he said softly, tilting his head to one side and smiling. “Do you remember?”

Reluctantly, Touya tore his gaze away from Sakura and Syaoran to focus on Yukito’s face. “What?” he asked distractedly, his expression still absent even as he turned towards the band. “I don’t think I’ve ever … oh. Oh.” Touya looked rather like his sister when he blushed, Yukito decided, though there was an edge to his roguish smile that was anything but shy.

“We’ve followed Sakura-chan and Li-kun all afternoon,” Yukito reminded Touya, maintaining his grip on the taller boy’s sleeve and guiding him nearer the stage. “Li-kun has been nothing but a perfect gentleman the entire time. And, as I pointed out earlier, Sakura-chan’s old enough to look out for herself.”

“… Yeah, I guess,” Touya agreed reluctantly, though that didn’t stop him from glancing over his shoulder again.

“You promised me an afternoon out,” Yukito continued, unperturbed. “And now, I’d like to dance.” He smiled serenely in response to Touya’s bemused look.

“Dance?” the other boy echoed. “… Eh. Why not?” He wasn’t foolish enough to take Yukito’s hand in his – there were still quite a few people around, after all – but he stopped resisting, allowing the weight of Yukito’s grip to become familiar and friendly against his arm. “… Just try and keep from tripping over your own feet, okay?”

~ * ~

They stayed later than most of the crowd, ostensibly because Sakura wanted to watch the moon rise over the glass-like surface of the like, and by the time they finally boarded the metro they had the car almost entirely to themselves. That didn’t stop them from sitting close together on the seat, Sakura’s head pillowed against Syaoran’s shoulder. He pulled a stray cherry blossom petal from her hair as the train wound its way beneath the heart of the city, brushing it lightly against the tip of her nose before tucking it into her hand.

She smiled up at him before closing her fingers carefully over the simple treasure, and this time she didn’t blush; she could no longer find a single thing to feel embarrassed or self-conscious about.

The streets were deserted when they arrived back in their neighborhood, everything still and quiet and washed in the soft, silver light of the moon; but despite the lingering remnants of Naoko’s story, Sakura didn’t turn around once to see if she was being followed. They took their time, hand-in-hand, their pace slow so that they could tilt their heads back and look up at the stars. “Make a wish!” Syaoran said suddenly, catching sight of the shooting star a split-second before she did, but in that moment her heart felt impossibly light and she couldn’t think of a single thing to wish for.

Thoughts of how they would say goodnight to one another had troubled both of them earlier in the day, but the sight of the waiting light over her front door brought no consternation for either of them now. “I had a lot of fun with you today, Syaoran-kun,” Sakura told him, happy and sincere, as she turned to face him on the front step. “Thank you for taking me. I hope we can do something like this again soon.”

Her smile was infectious, lighting up his night-softened face with its brilliant glow. “You looked very beautiful tonight,” he told her, shyly brushing the edge of one of her ribbons with the tips of his fingers. “We’ll definitely do this again; very soon.” She tilted her head up then, her cheek expectant and warm beneath his palm.

Half a block away, Yukito spotted them a moment before Touya could, and he tugged the brunette closer to him. “Look how beautiful the moon is tonight,” he said sweetly, and Touya tilted his head back obligingly to let the silver gleam bathe his upturned face.

Undisturbed, Syaoran leaned forward and sealed their first kiss against the waiting curve of Sakura’s lips. Sakura giggled a little and hugged him tightly after, and she smelled like flowers as he pressed her close.

It was a moment neither of them would ever forget.

 

Especially since Tomoyo, leaning expertly out of Sakura’s bedroom window, caught the entire thing on film.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm currently accepting commissions; see my [gig page](http://fiverr.com/users/o2doko/gigs/write-an-original-5000-word-story-in-any-genre) for more information.


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